Gilan's First Year
by Bralt
Summary: We all know of Gilan, but never have we heard of his apprenticeship. Well, here's a nice story that just might fill those wonderings. Rated for possible violence and mild language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**Okay, I'm a terrible person and I think I've been AWOL far too long. I've gotten stuck with Past Mistake so I've decided to put it on hold for a while and write this idea that came to me just today. It's a bit more humorous than what I've been doing, I don't think anybody should die in this;) Please excuse the terrible absence I took, I plan to update this more than I have been.**

**I don't plan on making this like Will's apprenticeship, it's mentioned Gil's apprenticeship was more mellow, but I hope it's still a bit interesting...**

Gilan looked up as the door to the house opened. A mischievous smile tugged at his lips as he saw the Ranger enter and the thought of finishing his breakfast quickly vanished from his mind. The grin was quickly hidden as his father looked up from his own breakfast; Gilan couldn't risk anybody questioning why he was in such a good mood all the sudden.

"Halt, it's good to see you. What brings you here?" David asked, motioning for Halt to take a seat.

Gilan watched Halt take the offered chair. Halt had been coming by to see David for longer than Gilan could remember, but for some reason he couldn't get used to the man. In all truth, he'd never been allowed to stay whenever his father and the Ranger talked. He'd always be dismissed and told to go train or to go do chores. Though he never did that, he'd always find himself getting distracted and go to the village instead.

Looking at Halt now, Gilan reconsidered what he was going to do. Not much of Halt's face was visible due to his raised cowl, but Gilan couldn't imagine a welcoming smile was on the Ranger's face. He'd heard the rumors and, when he was younger, brought them up to his father. In response, his father had cuffed him on the back of his head and told him they were lies. The incident had destroyed any bad image he'd had of Halt, but it was blatantly obvious that Halt wasn't the most cheery of folks.

Then again, being a knight isn't the most cheery of futures, Gilan thought.

"Find anything interesting, boy?" Halt muttered as he took his seat.

Gilan snapped his mouth shut, he couldn't remember when he had opened it, and looked back at his breakfast hurriedly. In the corner of his eye he could see his father frown and had a sinking feeling it was all over. He'd be questioned and there was no way in hell he was going to lie to his father. It only took once to convince him never again. To his surprise, David didn't scold him for his staring.

"It's time for your lesson, Gilan. MacNeil will be waiting in the usual place," David said, as usual. Gilan tried to keep himself from looking eager to leave, adopting a pleading look.

"I had a lesson yesterday," he moaned, making sure to sound like he usually did. It was a normal occurrence for him to argue going. Learning how to swordfight was rather exhausting, and though he liked it, it wasn't his preferred activity. Today, however, being dismissed was all he wanted, but willingly leaving without being threatened with some chore would tip somebody off.

"And you'll have one tomorrow as well," his father answered sternly. "Now get going and I don't want to hear that you were goofing around again. If I do, you'll be cleaning out the stable," he added. Gilan finished the remnants of his breakfast hurriedly and stood, cleaning out the stable was something to avoid at almost all costs.

Going to his room and grabbing his sword and shield, Gilan rushed out the door. David watched as he left and waited a few minutes before looking back to Halt.

"You sure he's going to do as you expect?" the battlemaster questioned. He had no doubt Halt knew what he was talking about, but it amazed him how sure he was of all of this. It seemed impossible the Ranger could predict what Gilan was going this well. Halt pulled his cowl down and raised an eyebrow, an action he was becoming more and more fond of.

"No, but there's nothing to lose if he doesn't," Halt responded. David nodded passively and poked at his breakfast with his fork a moment.

"You're going to have your hands full if you're right." Giving up on his breakfast, David stood and dumped the rest of his food into a bucket by the door. It'd go to a family down the road with pigs later. Halt shrugged.

"We need good Rangers, Crowley knows about him as well. If I don't get him then somebody else will and you've made it clear you want him to continue training with MacNeil. Anybody else gets him and he'll be too far away to continue that." He cast a glance out the window set in the front of the house and scanned the forest that circled the house at a distance. He found Gilan in a matter of seconds. The boy was sitting in tall weeds by the road leading away, trying to get into a good position. David noticed Halt looking and went to look out the window as well. "Do that and I just might lose my possible apprentice," Halt said, stopping David in his tracks.

David looked out anyways, but didn't go to the window as he'd planned. His gaze lingered for a minute. "How long do you plan on waiting?"

Halt looked away, if Gilan was really interested in being a Ranger as he suspected, he'd wait as long as need be. Maybe not patiently or still, but he'd wait.

"Long enough for some coffee," he said. David looked at him, coming from anybody else; he might consider it to be a joke. But this was Halt; jokes were as rare as smiles.

"We don't have any honey; Gilan dumped it this morning making breakfast," David answered but started making the drink anyway.

Halt wasn't listening anymore, he was back to looking out the window at Gilan in the weeds. At the moment he was batting away the pesky bugs that plagued the air in the heat of summertime. Halt frowned; he didn't know the boy that much personally. And a person's character was just as important as their physical skill in this field. The Rangers had already had to deal with a bunch of stuck up idiots in their ranks, they didn't need to repeat that.

"You said he gets in trouble a good amount," Halt said absently, not completely involved with his words. David turned away from his task.

"Nothing serious, pranks mostly. That and sneaking treats before supper," said David. "He finds trouble when he gets bored mostly, I don't think he's ever gotten into anything particularly bad before though and he's never lied about it afterwards."

Halt nodded dismissively at the answer and accepted his coffee when it was done. David sat down across from him and Halt noticed he was a bit tense, that meant more talking soon. As he'd predicted, it didn't take long for David to try and pick up the conversation again. It seemed that no matter who you were with, they always chose the course of talking to distract them. Naturally Halt held himself above that rule, he spoke when he wanted, not when he needed to distract himself. If the boy talked as a distraction it'd need to be fixed, too much talking was never a good thing, especially if you held the kingdom's secrets.

"You'll keep him out of danger, right?" David asked in as casual a voice as he could. Halt looked at him and knew that the question was more important than he was letting on.

Though others might have been tempted to offer as much assurance as possible, Halt wasn't going to give any false security. Being a Ranger had its perks, but it wasn't all planning and advising and informing the king, there were a million and one times Gilan would be put in harm's way. To go with that, there were a million and one things that could go wrong in the field, even when you thought you'd prepared for all of it.

"He's not going to be put in any unneeded danger," Halt answered and cast a glance back out the window. Gilan was still in the weeds, a bit more still than he had been, but not so much he could fool a Ranger. No, not anywhere near that level, that'd take years to accomplish and even then, it'd take a miracle to fool Halt.

On the edge of his vision Halt saw David relax the tiniest fraction. His answer wasn't as comforting as the battlemaster had wanted, but it was better than nothing. They sat in silence for a while more, Halt watching Gilan through the window and lost in his thoughts, David fidgeting every now and then and tapping a tattoo out on the table, much to Halt's annoyance.

"Is he still there?" David questioned after a few minutes. Halt snapped out of his thoughts and took a second to process what had been asked. Nodding, the Ranger stood up and pulled his cowl over his head, hiding his features.

"Longer than I thought he'd wait," Halt answered. It was true, he'd expected the boy to give up after ten minutes or so but it was nearing an hour now and he was still there. David stood as well and shook hands with Halt.

"Try not to traumatize him too much, he's already not all there," David joked. The smallest upturn of Halt's lips was the only suggestion that the Ranger had acknowledged the joke, and David couldn't see that.

"He'll come back when he can to train with MacNeil," Halt stated before leaving.

It was time to see if Gilan really did want to be a Ranger.

**Okay, so I don't know how old Gil was when he was taken as an apprentice, I think it was 13 or 14, but I'm not entirely sure...if anybody could help with that, it'd be nice. Oh and how long it's been since the first war...I've tried to find it but I can't really find anything. Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**Okay, thanks to the reviewers that helped with his age, my main concern was that it'd be close after the war and I'd have to deal with matters that might have taken place but I don't think that's the case, but thanks a ton for the help:D **

Halt took his time saddling Abelard again and mounting, watching Gilan out of the corner of his eye. The boy had stiffened and tried to lay a bit more still when Halt came out, his first mistake. By making himself stiff he only succeeded in making himself stand out more. Halt took note of it and tapped Abelard's sides.

Doing his best to ignore the boy lying in the weeds, Halt rode past. It wasn't that hard, but Halt couldn't help his eyes wandering in the shadows of his cowl. Gilan was in plain sight as far as he was concerned, though he undoubtedly thought himself perfectly hidden. He had, however, sheathed his sword and covered his shield in cloth so there was no reflection. It was common sense to sheath the sword, but to cover the shield took a bit of cleverness, something else Halt took a mental note of.

Halt was only a few meters down the path when he heard the telltale swish of grass that is being passed through. Gilan had stood and was starting to follow. Halt heard every snap of a twig, every kicked stone and every disturbed bush the boy went by. It happened far more often than Halt thought it should, but he didn't glance back. No, that just might scare the boy off and he didn't want that.

_So loud a bear might be a better accomplice,_ Halt thought as Abelard shook his mane for perhaps the thousandth time.

Keeping Abelard at a trot fast enough to tire somebody out, but still give them hope of staying reasonably close, Halt went until midday. Glancing around the landscape, the Ranger spotted a creek not too far up the path and dismounted once he reached it. He loosened Abelard's saddle girth then proceeded to get his canteen to fill, doing what he did best and waiting for what the boy would do.

* * *

Gilan stood as stealthily as he could once Halt rode past. By the time his slow standing was done, Gilan realized that the Ranger was already a fair ways away. Panicking slightly, Gilan started off quickly, trying to stay silent as he did so. He thought he was doing rather well, not realizing how many branches and twigs he was snapping, how many rocks he'd kicked unconsciously or how many branches were getting snagged on his clothes and covered shield.

As he went, only half his mind was focused on what was happening. The other half was drifting through his thoughts. He wanted to do this, he'd heard the tales of Rangers and they far outshined those of knights. David usually heard the right stories, lacking the magic and the exaggeration and each time he told Gilan them, the boy found himself awed in a way.

Sure, the tales weren't those one usually gawked at. A normal knight's tale told of a brave soldier fighting for his family, or the woman he loved, and either had a tragic ending, or one that had the enemy dead beneath his boot and his maiden swooning over him in the background. Those were stories that almost everybody would applaud and the heroes would be envied. However, Gilan could only stand so many of those tales. He enjoyed the fights and often found himself dreaming the padded post before him in practices to be some maniacal fiend or terrifying monster, but the tales of the Rangers were by far his favorites.

And their mysteriousness interested him as well. His father always said Gilan knew how to get his nose in places it could be cut off. The only difference being now it was quite possible that could happen.

Gilan's mind continued to wander, causing him to step and stumble and get caught on enough things that he might as well have started a bonfire and shouted his whereabouts. He kept up his constant duck and run pattern that he'd started off with. He'd hurry behind a tree, glance around (whether he was actually taking in what he saw was another matter) and then sprint behind another tree and repeat the process. He thought he was doing rather well, Halt hadn't turned around yet.

As Halt rode on, Gilan felt his breath getting shallower and shallower. The Ranger wasn't going at too quick a pace, but it was taking its toll on the boy who now regretted skipping more than one of his endurance exercises. When he had to stop and take a few quick breaths behind one of the trees he'd taken as cover, he realized how ill-prepared he was. He hadn't thought to grab water, or food, or any of his belongings besides the sword and shield, two things that were starting to become burdens more than anything. The sword wasn't as bad as the shield, which insisted on being unwieldy when he tried to poke his head around the tree, but he cringed every time the scabbard scrapped the tree bark. However, Halt still didn't do anything so Gilan considered himself in higher regard. Perhaps he had more skill than he'd thought. And then his shield smacked into something else and he had to focus on not being seen.

It occurred to him he could simply leave the shield behind, but he knew that when-if-Halt sent him back to his father; he'd get his bum tanned for running off. Having to explain that he didn't have his shield anymore would just make matters worse.

More time went by with Gilan continuing his hide and sprint pattern easily. He wasn't even thinking about it now, devoting his full attention to the possibilities before him. He was getting comfortable. Something that, if Halt had turned around and noticed it, he would have added to his growing list of what the boy was doing wrong.

Gilan was almost happy when Halt stopped by the stream and dismounted. Scurrying behind a bush that was closer to the Ranger's position, Gilan sat down contentedly. Lying his shield down and glaring at it, Gilan rolled his shoulder in its socket to get feeling back. His arm was a tad numb from carrying it. He felt the pin pricks that signaled feeling was coming back and promised himself that, if he was ever sent back, he'd never skip another endurance exercise that MacNeil assigned him again.

Once he'd caught his breath, Gilan poked his head around the edge of the bush, trying to see what Halt was up to. He spotted the Ranger in the shallow edge of the water, filling his canteen and taking long sips. Abelard was nearby, swishing his tail at the flies that thrived in this heat. A slight haze was resting above the patches of sunlight that got through the maze of tree branches and leaves.

Suddenly his throat felt extremely dry and Gilan could feel the sweat rolling down his neck and plastering his shirt to his back. Even if the forest was better than being in the middle of a field, running and ducking to keep up with a Ranger was hard work, especially when you were nervous already.

"Just wait until he leaves, then grab some water," Gilan said softly to himself then shook his head.

_Can't do that, _he thought. _You'll get too far behind and then what? Go back as a failure. _

He shook his head again, that wasn't going to happen. Looking back to Halt, Gilan watched him put the canteen down behind him and then turn back to the stream to splash water on his hot skin. Gilan smiled and felt his hopes soar. He could think of more than one time he'd taken treats before supper from almost directly under his father's nose, this was almost the exact same thing. Of course, he seemed to be forgetting this was Halt, not his father. Just one of those details he usually glanced over without really thinking about.

"Haven't been spotted yet," Gilan murmured without realizing it and prepared himself to get the canteen. He didn't need a plan; all he needed was to go quietly to the canteen. He'd think of the rest when he got there. If Halt had heard that reasoning, he would have added it to the growing list of what Gilan would have to work on. Then again, if Gilan started thinking, it might not be so good a thing.

* * *

Halt knew the boy was coming out from the forest from the soft footfalls that he picked up easily. He couldn't help the sly quarter of a smile that slipped onto his features as the sound of Gilan approaching came closer to him. Or more correctly, the canteen he'd placed behind him just a minute ago. Dipping his hand in the water, Halt ran it through his hair, enjoying the feel of the cold rivulets run down onto his neck.

All the while he kept his ears on high alert, listening to the boy's progress and seeing it in his mind's eye. By his figuring, Gilan was about a step behind him now and from the slight sound of moving cloth, he knew Gilan would be bending down to grab the canteen. This was going to be easier than he'd anticipated.

Crouching down as if observing the river, Halt counted to three then spun around, his right hand reaching out to grab onto Gilan's arm. He grabbed onto the outstretched limb on the bicep for a good grip and used his momentum to twist back so he was facing the river, pulling Gilan with him. Stilling his own movement once he was facing forwards again, Halt released Gilan and let the power he'd used in pulling him forward carry the boy into the river head first.

Standing up, Halt smiled slightly, that had been _far _too easy.

**Sorry if that was a bit boring, please review**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's apprentice or any of its characters**

**Sorry for the wait, I smacked my head off a post and wasn't most interested in writing and then I had to catch up on work...anyways, sorry if I didn't answer your review, I think I answered a few, but if not, thanks for the review, have a nice day and don't consider a marshmallow a good tooth.**

Gilan came up spluttering, spitting out curses with each mouthful of water. Though it was hot out and Gilan wouldn't have minded a bit of water to pour over his head, being drenched in the middle of the cold river was less than ideal. By the time he'd gotten over his shock and most of the water was out of his mouth, a few minutes had passed. Running his hand through his hair so it wasn't in his eyes, he shot Halt one of his best glares. It didn't compare in the slightest to Halt's nicest one.

"What the hell was that for?" Gilan managed, forgetting who he was talking to. He'd been taught more respect, but he was no longer a battleschool apprentice in his mind and this man had in fact just thrown him in a river.

Halt simply raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed. His cowl was down and Gilan had time to take in the ragged black hair that seemed to be cut with a knife. The Ranger had stubble of a beard as well, making him seem more threatening for some reason. Perhaps it was because black was the color of the shadows. Either way, the lack of response irked Gilan who was already agitated from his swim.

"That's no way to speak to your elders," the Ranger stated simply as Gilan started his climb up the shallow slope of the muddy bank.

"It is when they're bat crazy," Gilan said back, uncomfortable in his wet clothes. He wasn't threatened in the least by Halt, if his father trusted him then so did he. Halt's other eyebrow came up to meet the first at the response.

"Most people would consider stealing a Ranger's canteen bat crazy," he answered, arms still crossed.

Gilan fell silent, busying himself with wringing his shirt out as best as he could. He took the pause in the conversation to study the Ranger. He was shorter than average, nothing close to what some of the more exaggerated myths said of him. Either way, Gilan doubted he was a person to cross.

"Done staring?" Halt questioned, noticing Gilan was looking at him.

Gilan quickly averted his gaze and nodded. His clothes were already starting to dry now that he was standing in one of the hazy patches of heat and his heart was slowing down. Halt watched him a moment more before picking up his canteen and heading back to Abelard, ignoring the boy.

For a moment all Gilan could do was watch, here was his chance, but he didn't know what to say. How were you supposed to ask to be an apprentice when you were just thrown into a stream by the master you wanted? Not to mention the bat crazy comment. Taking a deep breath, Gilan went to say something but stopped as Halt finished with Abelard and looked at him, only one eyebrow raised this time.

"I don't believe your father would be very pleased if you left that shield in the bush over there," Halt said. Gilan looked at him and didn't move. Maybe he hadn't been as good a stalker as he'd originally thought. "Today would be nice," the Ranger added with a slightly annoyed tone.

Gilan snapped into action, not quite knowing what was going on. Once he'd retrieved his shield, he returned to his former spot. Halt was mounted now and Gilan wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Perhaps the Ranger just figured it was common sense to go back to his father. Halt looked at him.

"The cabin isn't that far away, you should be fine walking if you've come this far," Halt said and tapped Abelard's sides. Gilan didn't move, he just stood frozen to the spot. Halt stopped Abelard and turned in his saddle, an eyebrow raised. "Well?"

"W…what?" Gilan stuttered, still trying to think what was happening. Or more correctly, how Halt somehow seemed to know what he wanted. Unless he was planning on keeping Gilan there and just bringing him back to his father tomorrow. That would make sense, by the time they got back to the house, it'd be closer to the middle of the night. It'd be easier just to go to the cabin.

"Boy," Halt snapped and Gilan focused back onto the Ranger. "I want to get back before the Harvest Festival," Halt added, annoyed.

Gilan was aware he was nodding, what for and what it meant, he didn't know. "Right," he said after a few seconds but didn't know what to do. Halt rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

"If you've forgotten how to walk, it starts with you moving your feet," the Ranger supplied, still sounding slightly annoyed. Gilan thought he heard a bit of sarcasm as well, but disregarded the thought, he was still nodding. Shaking his head hopelessly, Halt started off again and Gilan managed to get himself moving after the Ranger.

The rest of the way, Gilan was unfocused, not bothering to stay quiet in any way. A few times Halt would mutter something, but he was too far away for Gilan to hear the specifics. Although, the words 'boy' and 'bear' came up rather commonly in what he could hear.

When they got back, Gilan watched Halt take care of Abelard. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious just standing there and he felt himself brushing the dried mud from the river off his clothing. Halt finished with Abelard and started towards the cabin, walking right past Gilan.

"There are clothes in the spare room and a river a few meters off the path towards the castle. I'm assuming you know how to get cleaned up and dressed," Halt said without missing a beat. Gilan nodded then remembered the Ranger was facing away from him. He hurried after him.

"Are you going to send me back home?" The question burst from his lips before he could hold it in. It'd been on his mind the entire way back and he found himself now holding his breath for the answer.

"Go get cleaned up and try not to get eaten by a bear," Halt answered, ignoring the question completely. Gilan stumbled up the steps then stopped. It occurred to him to ask again, but the idea of new clothes appealed to him. His own clothes were damp with sweat and he didn't like the smell of himself. Halt opened the door and walked in, Gilan followed before he could shut the door. "It's the door on the left," Halt added.

Gilan hurried into the room and grabbed a pair of clothes from the dresser, not bothering to take a good look around. It was dusk, and though he wouldn't admit it, he didn't fancy the idea of bathing in the middle of a river at night in a place he didn't know.

"There's a bucket on the porch, bring it back full with water, preferably before you poison it," Halt ordered before Gilan got to the door. The boy stopped and looked at the Ranger, the smell of coffee was starting to drift around the cabin and his back was to him.

"Why do I have to do it?" Gilan asked. Halt turned to face him.

"That's what apprentices are supposed to do," Halt replied, sipping on a mug of coffee.

**Please review**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

A pounding of fist on wood woke Gilan from his slumber. Sitting up groggily, he wiped the sleep out of his eyes and forced them open. His legs were sore from the previous day's walking and he was fairly hungry, but other than that he was fine.

"Beauty sleep's over, I need you to fill up the barrel outside with water," Halt said from the door. It was open and Gilan frowned at how awake Halt looked. A quick glance out his window revealed the sun was just rising.

"Just a bit longer," the boy muttered and lay back down, pulling the blanket over his head. A few seconds later said blankets were yanked back from him and tossed to the end of the bed in a heap.

"In a bit you'll have to show me how badly you cook. We need water now," Halt responded. Gilan groaned.

"It's too early, even the farmers won't be up yet," he complained. Halt crossed his arms and Gilan felt his stern gaze, he couldn't keep arguing for much longer.

"You aren't a farmer, you're a Ranger."

Gilan groaned again, but swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Stretching his arms, he stood up and looked at the door, Halt was gone. Smiling slightly, Gilan shut his door quietly and went back to the bed, curling up in the blankets.

This time a cold torrent of water woke him up. Jumping out of the bed and cursing close to a Skandian's standards, Gilan swung his fist out instinctively. He heard a clatter as a bucket was dropped and a hand close around his fist. Gilan opened his eyes quickly and blinked a few times to dislodge the water on his eyelashes. Halt was standing before him with his fist clenched in his hand. Gilan tried to free his hand, but Halt's grip was strong. He was a bit angry at how easily the Ranger seemed to be holding onto him. After a few seconds Halt released him.

"Good to see you're awake. The bucket is right there and the barrel is outside. If you've forgotten where the stream is then you might need more help than I can give." And with that, Halt was gone again.

Gilan continued to mutter curses as he pulled off his wet clothes and dressed in dry ones from the dresser. Tossing the wet ones on the floor, he picked up the bucket and slipped his boots on. Halt was sitting at the table reading what looked to be a report and sipping on a mug of coffee.

Gilan froze. He'd never seen Halt without his customary cloak and bow. He almost looked relaxed as he took another sip at his coffee and continued reading. Gilan noticed that his hair was shorter as well, but couldn't imagine Halt had had time to go to a barber's. Perhaps the rumors were true and he really did cut it with a knife. Gilan let a small smile slip at the thought, had his mother been alive, she'd have yelled at him for a good ten minutes for not taking proper care of himself.

"Can't stop staring," Halt muttered and shook his head helplessly then looked at him. "If you're going to be this slow, you might as well be an apprentice to an old lady." Halt looked back down at his report and Gilan headed out to the stream.

Thirty-one buckets later, Gilan was done filling the barrel and went inside expecting a nice breakfast set out for him. There was none. Looking rather disappointed, Gilan collapsed into a chair at the table. Thirty trips to the river and back took more energy than he would have expected and now he had nothing to eat.

Halt finished his coffee and set down his coffee before looking up at Gilan. "I suppose you've never cooked before." Gilan frowned at the statement.

"Why would I do that?" he asked and saw Halt raise his eyebrow.

"That was a yes or no question, it didn't require another question to answer it," Halt said. "Who do you expect to make your food around here?" Gilan's shoulders slumped.

"But I'm tired," he protested. Halt raised an eyebrow.

"Then you'll go hungry, boy," Halt answered and stood with his coffee mug. "There's axe in the lean-to and firewood out back, a broom over there and the floor is beneath your feet. After all that is done, you can clean the pots and pans and plates then beat out the rugs."

Gilan's eyes widened and he felt his stomach rumble. "Is that all Ranger's do? Run around and complete errands?"

"No, Rangers are the eyes and ears for King Duncan, we wait and watch and learn then report to him. However, Ranger _apprentices_ have too much cotton between their ears for that and are set to do housework, boy," Halt said, placing stress on the word apprentice. "And that involves fetching water, cutting firewood, keeping the place clean and cooking."

"Aren't there maids for that?" Gilan muttered and saw Halt's eyebrow inch up further.

"Do you see any maids?" Halt paused, but Gilan had a feeling he wasn't actually waiting for an answer. "No, this is a cabin, not a castle. You want something done, you do it yourself, got it?"

Gilan looked away. "Why are you having me do it all then?" He half hoped Halt wouldn't hear him, but when he looked back to the Ranger, he saw that wasn't the case.

"Because, as I mentioned, apprentices always have too much cotton between their ears," he said back and Gilan gave up, he wasn't going to win this argument. "Now either get up and start your chores or show me how much you know about cooking." Halt turned his back to him again and started getting various things out to begin breakfast. Gilan hesitated for a minute before standing and waiting for Halt to get everything out.

As it turned out, he wasn't too terrible at cooking. Once his mother had passed, his father had taken full control of raising him and that included a few cooking lessons. It could come in handy as a knight on a mission to be able to cook your food so you wouldn't be stuck with raw meat.

After breakfast, Gilan stood and took all the dishes they'd used and started for the door. Halt watched him leave and then stood and started another pot of coffee.

"Having an apprentice could be fun," he muttered as he watched Gilan drop half the dishes on the way to the river.

**Sorry for this going so slow and I'm trying to make it seem a tad like Will's apprenticeship in what Halt sets Gilan to do and all because I think he'd treat his apprentices the same at first. I just want to do Gilan's introduction to his weapons and his horse before I get to what I'm going to do with this story, so just bear with me for a little bit more.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**So again I apologize for the slowness of this all, but I want to be able to like this story as I didn't like my last one so much. It should only be about a chapter more of this slow going before I get to some action, so no fear!**

It was one of those days that simply consisted of heat and nothing more. Gilan couldn't find one patch of shade that he could work in to stay cool. Halt seemed to keep him out in the open where shade was little and didn't provide much relief. A few times Gilan heard Halt calling things to him, mostly providing comments on things he was doing wrong or mentioning another thing that needed to be done. All the while, the Ranger sat on the verandah with a mug of coffee and a pile of reports. There was a quick break for lunch, in which Gilan ended up burning what Halt had tried to teach him to make, and they ended up having cold sandwiches. After that, it was back to work.

Throughout all the orders, Gilan picked up on his mentor using the word 'we', something he greatly disapproved of. 'We' would imply both of them were doing the work, Gilan hadn't seen Halt do a thing all day besides call what he claimed to be encouragement to his apprentice. He noticed Halt had a few phrases he was fond of using, one being 'How unusual' followed by an instruction

By the time Halt finally ran out of chores, Gilan was dripping sweat and about ready to jump in the river willingly. Gilan fell into a chair beside Halt on the verandah and focused on enjoying the stop of work. Halt looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

"If you have enough energy to enjoy this break, you could clean out the lean-to," Halt said after a few seconds. Gilan groaned and looked at him.

"It's not even my horse in there!" Gilan argued and was surprised to see Halt nod after a few seconds.

"I suppose you're right," the Ranger stated and stood up, finishing the final sip of his coffee as he did so. He squinted at the sun. It was just a few hours after noon. "We have time," he said and disappeared inside with his reports and coffee mug, he came back out in his cloak and holding his bow with his quiver slung over his back under the garment.

The double scabbard at his waist caught Glian's attention. He'd seen the Ranger wearing it, but didn't think about it until now. He couldn't remember seeing anything like it in all his training, which was saying something. MacNeil had made it a mission to expose him to all weapons and their advantages and disadvantages. Deciding it wasn't worth the effort to ask about it now, Gilan waited for an instruction.

"Stand up, boy. If you don't want to be walking to your sword lessons then you'll act a bit more enthusiastic," Halt said and started for the lean-to.

Gilan frowned and followed, questions popping into his head. He wasn't one to be overly curious but all day he'd had more and more questions coming to him. This was all unfamiliar to him and he wasn't used to it. Added to that, he was missing his father a bit. It'd been almost three years since he'd been separated from him and that time hadn't been pleasant. Shaking his head, Gilan watched Halt saddle his horse then proceed to mount.

"Why can't I ride this time?"Gilan asked without thinking. His legs felt like jelly from everything he'd been doing and the prospect of walking for who knew how long didn't appeal to him. Halt raised an eyebrow at him.

"Better not get fond of questions," Halt muttered and tapped his horse's sides without answering the inquiry. Gilan groaned, yet again, and followed slowly.

It was about an hour or so of trudging through the forest that finally brought them to a clearing. Halt trotted Abelard over to a small paddock and dismounted, loosening the saddle girths and making a signal to him. Gilan frowned when he saw the action and was interested to see the shaggy horse react by strolling away to find a good patch of grass.

The horse didn't look to be capable of much, he was barrel chested and perhaps the shaggiest horse Gilan had seen. All his life, he'd been shown to large battle horses with muscular builds that towered over commoners and knights alike. Now he was looking at Halt's horse and two more of the small beasts in the paddock with a doubtful eye. Had he really walked all this way with aching legs to see these things? Wasn't a Ranger, one of the most important men in the country according to his father, entitled to have a large muscular horse that could carry him off to missions into battle with grace? Or at the very least, a little dignity?

"Hurry it up, boy, we haven't got all month," Halt called from beside the enclosure.

Gilan looked away from the horses to Halt and saw that another man had joined him. The second man looked rather aged and had a gray, tangled beard that was a bit longer than it really needed to be. He didn't look to be the cleanliest person, and as Gilan got closer he realized he didn't smell like it either. Still with his doubtful features, Gilan joined them and leaned against the fence, breathing heavily in his sweat drenched clothes. There was a bark of laughter as the second man caught sight of him.

"Gotta real skinny one here, dontcha Halt?" the man said, slapping Halt's shoulder as he did so. Gilan waited for Halt to say something to the man in retaliation for the shoulder slap, but the Ranger just stood there with his cowl up and taciturn features.

_How is he still wearing that? _Gilan thought as he realized Halt wasn't making any moves to take his cloak off. _It's got to be the hottest day in the summer!_

"Are you awake, boy?" Halt snapped and Gilan realized he'd drifted off again. Shaking his head, Gilan stopped leaning on the fence.

"Why are we here?" he questioned and Halt raised his eyebrow.

"You were complaining you couldn't clean the stables because you didn't have your own horse in there," Halt answered. Gilan's eyes widened.

"I wasn't complaining!" he said defensively, his voice rising slightly in volume and tone. He motioned towards the two horses that were grazing at separate positions in the paddock. "Besides, how are these things going to be any use?"

Halt ignored him and turned to the old man.

"This is David's son, Gilan, I don't believe he's been around anything but battle horses his entire life," Halt explained then turned back to Gilan. "This is Bob; he's the horse breeder for the Corps."

Bob slapped Halt's shoulder again, laughing again and Glan felt himself grin. It was amusing to see somebody that obviously wasn't a stranger to laughter this close to Halt and not having a knife in their stomach. Bob extended his hand towards Gilan.

"Most call me Ol' Bob," he said cheerily. Gilan shook his hand then released it, leaving Old Bob to inspect him. "Looks like 'e'd have made a fine knight," he stated after a while.

Gilan swallowed and glanced at Halt. "That's not what I want to be," he said quickly. "There's too many rules and work." As soon as he said it, Gilan knew he'd made a mistake. He could simply feel Halt's stern gaze on him.

"Rangers have rules as well and there's no shortage of work. If you don't believe that, I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard to find something else at the cabin for you to do. The lean-to's roof is leaking for one example. We're not a bunch of scoundrels with bows and the King's blessing to run around," Halt said icily. Gilan shifted from one foot to another, only relaxing when Old Bob laughed again.

"Always harsh, aintcha?" he laughed with another slap at Halt's shoulder. This time the Ranger leaned to his right slightly so the trainer's hand missed him. Gilan hid his smile, though not completely. Halt glared at him but didn't say anything, turning slightly to face Old Bob.

"Who've you got ready to be put in service?" Halt asked and Old Bob's grin widened.

"Blaze, she's the only one," he answered then turned to Gilan. "Yer gonna like her."

**please review**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**I really hate school...you know that? It's simply time consuming. It even manages to snatch time away from you on the weekends...I swear, the first day of summer I'm going to have to sit down and start writing and not stop til the end of summer.**

**Oh and thank you to Savannah Silverstone for Blaze's phrase, I had it as 'would you mind' or something because I didn't know it...**

Gilan watched as Bob whistled and a shaggy mare trotted up. He eyed her with the same doubt he'd eyed her with at a distant. She was short, barrel like and shaggy. Nothing near the standards he would put even a farm horse at in looks and the lack of distance didn't do anything to help his opinion of her. Old Bob saw the look but didn't seem fazed by it.

"Used to all 'em big fancy battle 'orses, ain't ya?" he said, stroking the Blaze's snout affectionately. He bent down and plucked an apple from a bucket, placing it in his flat palm and holding it in front of her. It was gone in a matter of seconds.

"Still feeding them apples like they're the King's horse," Halt muttered and Old Bob laughed.

"Abelard 'ooks like 'e's gained a few pounds since the last time I saw ya here," the trainer chuckled and Gilan saw Halt's eyebrow inch up a bit, but the Ranger didn't send back a reply, instead he looked to Gilan.

"Ranger horses are superior to your admired battle horses. Looks don't define all they can do," he said sternly. Gilan wasn't looking at him; he was still studying Blaze who was doing the same back. "If you want to ride her, you have to-"

"I know how to ride a horse," Gilan interrupted. Halt's eyebrow inched higher but he didn't argue.

"Go on ahead, boy," Old Bob said, and stepped back from the paddock, motioning for Gilan to get on with whatever he planned to do.

Surely he was imagining it, but Gilan swore he could see the beginnings of a very, very, faint smile on Halt's features. Shaking his head, he took a few steps up to the corral. He'd ridden bareback before, on a real horse, one that actually looked majestic and worthy of a rider. Climbing over the gate, Gilan caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye and stopped, turning to look at the two men that stood watching him.

"Just makin' sure she don't leave you in the dust, 'here's a reason she's got her name," Old Bob said, reaching down with the hand he'd just flashed the signal with. He grabbed an apple from the bucket and starting munching on it, much like Blaze had.

Gilan rolled his eyes and turned back to face Blaze's flank. "Couldn't leave me in the dust unless she was spooked," he muttered.

Blaze twisted her head lazily to look at him. There seemed to be a kind of wisdom in her eyes though Gilan couldn't tell if she liked him or not. He frowned and shook his head.

_She's a horse, she'll like you as long as you brush her and feed her_, he thought, and smiled slightly despite his neutral mood.

Still, he was interested in her look and for some reason he felt odd when she cocked her head a bit. It was as if she had sensed his doubt in her and was saying 'If you're so sure, why don't you get on?'. Shaking his head again, Gilan mounted her.

She felt sturdy enough beneath him, though bareback wasn't as comfortable as having a saddle. He was used to riding; MacNeil had given him several lessons and even showed him some moves for mounted fighting. Looking back at halt a little cockily, he grinned.

"Told you I knew how to ride," he said, enjoying teasing Halt a bit. The Ranger didn't seem to care.

"Give it a minute," Halt stated simply, his arms crossed.

Gilan frowned, confused. And then he felt Blaze's body bunch beneath him. He'd felt that before, it'd always been on a battle horse and it was when they got startled. However, this time MacNeil wasn't around to calm the horse and there was a feel of pure power in the shaggy mare's body. He barely had time to yell as Blaze jumped up and bucked, twisting in the air to make sure he was off.

Gilan held on as tight as he could, but it was no use and he felt his body slam into a very sturdy post. Groaning slightly, he tried to glare at Old Bob who was busting a gut laughing. Even Halt had a faint smile on. Shaking his head to clear it, Gilan stood and marched back over to Blaze. She was grazing and seemed as content as a horse could be. It was as if nothing had happened.

She looked up lazily as Gilan got closer and seemed to be questioning what he was doing.

_Didn't it hurt enough the first time? _She seemed to ask. Gilan ignored her, focused on the task of mounting again. He knew how to ride a horse and he wasn't about to give up. And though he wouldn't admit it, it felt rather nice before he'd hit the post. It was like a cool breeze wrapping around him.

The process repeated itself, making Bob double over and Halt raise an eyebrow as to his apprentice's motives. Maybe he had one more rock in his head than Halt had first suspected. As Gilan lay on the ground rubbing his temple, Halt climbed over the fence into the paddock. Blaze trotted over to the Ranger and followed him to Gilan.

The mare cocked her head at the boy on the ground and had a glint of amusement in her eyes. Gilan clambered to his feet, still holding a hand to his head and kept a wary eye on her. Halt crossed his arms and waited for the boy's vision to focus on him.

"Most would have enough sense to ask what they did wrong the first time," he said. Gilan glanced back at Blaze for a moment. Maybe there was more to the shaggy beast than he'd first thought.

"You don't seem the person to like questions," Gilan retorted, letting a goofy half smile appear on his lips.

"Don't mind questions with a little sense behind him," Halt muttered. "Then again, it doesn't seem you have too much of that."

Gilan blinked a few times to get rid of the remaining spots in his vision. By the time he'd cleared the spots away, Bob had joined them. He watched as Blaze butted his shoulder gently and accepted the apple the breeder offered before strolling away to graze somewhere else. Bob had a big grin plastered across his features as he looked at Gilan.

"Not so bad now is she?" he laughed. "Better than 'una yer fancy 'orses. Rangers won't need ta worry 'bout a stolen 'orse with the way these 'uns are raised," he added.

"MacNeil said that a horse that bucks you off can't be trusted, they'll get startled when you need them to be calm," Gilan answered and fought the urge to rub his head where he knew a bump would be growing. Halt raised an eyebrow.

"Well if you'd asked her permission before clambering onto her back like some drunken Skandian, she might not have done that," Halt replied. Gilan's lips twitched into a smile and he laughed. Halt's only response was a withering look delivered with the body language to match the look.

Gilan's laughter died away as he saw that Bob had not joined him at Halt's absurd statement. He shook his head, regretting it almost immediately as a sharp knife of pain shot through his mind. He'd known Rangers were odd, but talking to their horses brought them up to a whole other level.

"Ranger 'oreses ain't stolen 'cause of 'eir passwords, boy," Bob said. He looked at Blaze and thought for a quick second. "Hers is 'brown eyes'."

Gilan looked at him as if he'd gone nuts; half of him believed this was a big joke. He glanced at Halt, searching for any sign of amusement, not that the Ranger would have shown any in the first place. After a moment or so, Halt rolled his eyes.

"I'd like to get inside before next week, boy," he said impatiently and motioned towards Blaze. "Unless you want to be walking all over this country, I suggest you get a move on."

Gilan went to protest, but stopped at the look Halt gave him. He made a mental note that Halt didn't seem to like waiting then walked over to Blaze. She looked at him teasingly and a bit annoyed. Then again, whoever disrupted her grazing deserved an annoyed look. Once again he found himself frowning at the horse, questioning how smart she actually appeared to be. It took a muttered insult from Halt to get him moving and, feeling more than a little foolish and doing it more to appease the grim man, Gilan leaned close to her ear and whispered the phrase Bob had given him.

There didn't seem to be any change besides Blaze shaking her mane then going back to grazing. Glancing back, he saw Bob was grinning and motioning for him to try again. Hesitating briefly, Gilan swung back onto Blaze's bare back and gripped her mane tighter than what would have been recommended. She gave him what he would consider a withering look, but didn't buck him off. Counting it as a success, Gilan tapped her sides as MacNeil had taught him.

Blaze took her time finishing her mouthful of grass before realizing it was her job to move when told to and started a brisk trot. Gilan grinned and tapped her sides again, relaxing his grip on her and enjoying the swiftness at which she seemed capable of. He hadn't realized how far he'd really gone until the far off sound of Bob laughing reached his ears. He directed Blaze back around to face the paddock and tapped her sides again, sending her into a nice run.

The new wind created from the run felt good tearing through his shirt and, as he got back, Gilan dismounted as gracefully as he could. Halt rolled his eyes.

"Got myself a showoff," he muttered then started back towards the house.

**The ending seemed a bit rushed to me, but, as you probably know, I left it for a week so I wasn't all into it. Please review**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**Again, I apologize for not responding to reviews left at Past Mistake's last chapter. I do appreciate them though.**

Once they'd gotten back the next day, Halt had Gilan go about several chores such as sweeping out the cabin, refilling the water barrel and preparing a lunch with a minimal amount of cursing on Halt's part. Gilan dragged out his eating for as long as he could, it wasn't as hot as the previous day, but the sun still held the summer heat and it was far from a cool day. He smiled slightly at what his father would say to him around now.

"Hurry up and finish eating then meet me at the horses," Halt said, interrupting Gilan's thoughts. The boy looked up, he hadn't realized Halt had already finished and swallowed his mouthful of food. He'd been expecting instructions on more chores, perhaps he'd be made to fix the loose board in the lean to for the horses he'd noticed earlier.

Before he could question anything, or argue that he deserved a break, Halt was gone out the door and Gilan was left to finish his food and add his dishes to the pile he'd be forced to clean later. He looked at said pile disdainfully. Perhaps he could sneak into the village later and hire a willing hand to clean them. Washing dishes was far from something he'd like to be spending time on, and he doubted not doing them would harm his training any. Then again, he'd also thought skipping endurance lessons was a good idea.

Out in the lean to Halt had already saddled Abelard and led him out. In one hand he held a sack and Gilan frowned at it, his curiosity peaked. Halt raised an eyebrow at him and opened his mouth to say some smart remark. Before he got the chance, Gilan hurried into the lean to and saddled Blaze. It didn't take him long; he'd learned how to care for horses with MacNeil and his father. Halt looked at him with a bit of approval as he stroked Blaze's head before mounting.

She still felt sturdy underneath him and her endurance was admirable he found out as they rode into the forest and she didn't try and slow after a while. Though she was turning out to be a better mount than he'd first expected, Gilan could still tell she was testy. Most mares he'd seen were, that was part of the reason he'd avoided them when picking a horse to use during practice.

Shaking his head, Gilan watched Halt who was to his left and up a few steps on the path. The boy's gaze lingered on the sack that the Ranger was still carrying. It could be any number of things, ranging from more pots to clean to the body of a squirrel. Though Gilan doubted the latter. Even though they'd only been riding for a few minutes and he'd only started focusing on the sack for less, Gilan found his curiosity prickling at his consciousness.

"What's in the sack?" he asked. Halt didn't even glance at him, nor did he answer the question. Gilan cleared his throat and went to ask again.

"If you've got a cold, I'd prefer you stay back," Halt said before Gilan could ask again. The apprentice frowned.

"I don't have a cold, I was asking what's in the sack," he answered a bit defensively.

Halt rolled his eyes under his cowl and Gilan figured he wasn't going to get an answer. Falling into an unwilling silence, Gilan tried to distract himself from the mysterious sack. It was harder than he thought, even if it was only for the remaining few minutes of the ride.

Halt stopped Abelard and dismounted in a wide clearing and Gilan followed suit. Using a gesture Bob had taught him and Halt had reminded him of, Gilan set Blaze free to graze without her saddle. The fact Halt had had him unsaddle her tipped him off they'd be here for a bit.

Gilan followed his mentor to a stump that was set up in the middle of the clearing. The heat wasn't so bad here, though it was still warmer than anybody would have preferred. Dappled shadows lined the edge of the clearing while tall trees surrounded them. The sun made the green grass around him seem brighter than it really was and for some reason it created a sense of calm. The slight breeze and natural sounds of the forest made it seem as if everything was peaceful and nothing menacing could come into the area.

Then Halt dumped out knives and a bow on the stump.

They seemed so out of place in the clearing, but Halt didn't seem to care or even notice. Gilan looked at the knives speculatively. They didn't resemble anything MacNeil had had him look at before, which was saying something. From what he'd seen of weapons, Gilan thought the knives looked hard. However, they didn't look all that impressive. Even though MacNeil had proven to him time and time again that a weapon didn't need to be impressive to be dangerous, the lesson never seemed to set in. He would, however, admit that they did look like they could be useful. Not for fighting, but maybe for chopping up food or basic defense against another knife fighter.

"They'll put a dent in your fancy swords," Halt muttered when he saw where Gilan was looking. "Not to mention your head."

Gilan looked at the Ranger and frowned.

"Neither of them would hold against a sword," he stated simply. MacNeil had showed him moves to dispatch a knife fighter easily in battle. All you needed was a sword and a little wit.

Halt raised an eyebrow at the boy. "The Skandians use these; the only difference is that these are harder. Do you expect to win a battle against a Skandian with a sword when they have a knife?" The question wasn't intended to be answered. So of course it made Gilan more eager to answer.

"Skandians are drunk half the time, my grandmother could beat them," he responded. Halt's second eyebrow went up. "Those knives couldn't hold up against a tree. I doubt they could even scratch the bark."

"Watch that tree over there," Halt ordered, motioning towards a tall oak at the edge of the clearing.

Gilan went to argue and received a glare that discouraged any more words. Crossing his arms, he turned to watch the tree. He heard an almost inaudible hiss as one of Halt's knives was slid out of its sheath and not a second later the small throwing knife was lodged hilt deep into the tree trunk.

Gilan bit the inside of his cheek. He knew a knife had to be sharp, sturdy and hard to do that, he'd tried on several occasions with different knives. Some could do it, but none with as much ease as this one had. Most would come out of the wood slightly bent from the effort of getting it back. Hopefully that would be the case with this one.

"A knife has to scratch the bark to get buried in the trunk," Halt stated. Gilan scowled and turned to face him. The Ranger was as calm as ever, his face still hidden in his cowl and not a trace of smugness about him. "Go pull it out."

Gilan, a bit reluctantly, went over to the tree where the small throwing knife was buried. Figuring the knife would need a lot of power to pull it out; Gilan grasped the hilt tightly and pulled.

He was a bit frightened by how easily it slid out and how it didn't seem to be dulled any.

**I thought the ending was bad, but it got done the part I needed it to so maybe we can get on with this to the part I'm looking forward to. Please review**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**You're probably all fed up with my apologies, but once again I say sorry for disappearing. Thank you for all the reviews (for this and for Fleabag), I couldn't get around to answering them, but I thank all of you. I've been trying to write, but I've found out that unlike in Elementary, the end of the year isn't winding down time, it's time to start studying for more tests and being rushed with projects because we're behind. But look at it this way: less than a month before I'll finally be able to start writing my mediocre stories more often**

Gilan looked up from his shooting and turned around at the sound of hoof beats. Curiosity peaked; he lowered his bow and started walking towards the front of the cabin. He had no doubt Halt would make him shoot late into the night again, but he was interested to see what was happening and his arms were tired anyway. Being a Ranger's Apprentice wasn't as exciting as he'd first hoped. It'd been about a week and not one person had stepped out of line. Then again, anything was better than beating a post in sweltering heat all day.

Halfway there he began to hear Halt and another man speaking. Had he had his cloak, Gilan would have slipped through the shadows that were growing longer with the sinking sun, but Halt had made it a rule that he could only have it when they were working on hidden movement or going up to the castle. It was the result of Gilan sneaking down to the river to scare helpless couples or fishermen.

Gilan walked up the steps and immediately earned a glare from Halt. "Doesn't look like your arms have fallen off," he muttered.

Gilan groaned and set his bow down. The man that had been speaking to Halt had a goofy grin on and was leaning against the railing on the veranda.

"They might as well have, I can hardly feel them," Gilan complained. Halt raised an eyebrow.

"If that's the case we'll go do mapping," he responded. Gilan let out another groan and the red haired man laughed.

"How is it you've put up with him for over a week and if I'm near you for over a day I get threatened to get thrown in the moat?" he asked. Halt rolled his eyes.

"Because I've had to put up with you for over seven years," Halt grumbled and nodded towards the man. "Meet your thick skulled commandant, Crowley," he added to Gilan.

Smiling a bit more at the way Crowley seemed to irritate Halt, Gilan glanced at him. He was taller than Halt, though that wasn't hard to do, and had an easy smile. Like all Rangers, he had the oakleaf around his neck, a quiver at his back and a cloak around his shoulders.

"Nice to meet the lad who'll be the reason for Halt's retirement," Crowley said cheerfully and held a hand out. Gilan took it with a smile and wasn't surprised by the firm grip.

Halt scowled and muttered something before looking to Gilan. "Go cut firewood then put Blaze down for the night," he ordered. Gilan went to argue, but a quick glare silenced him and he hurried off.

Crowley watched him go with a natural smile on his lips. "How's he doing then?"

"Fine, still can hardly hit the broadside of a barn while shooting, but he's a natural in hidden movement. He'd be better if he'd close his mouth for a few minutes and focus," Halt answered and walked inside. Crowley followed, his spirits lifting when he smelled the familiar drink of Rangers.

"What about with the knives?" Crowley asked. He hadn't ridden to Redmont to check in on Gilan's progress, but as a commandant it never hurt to know how things were going.

"He's used to them, though he needs to stop underestimating what they can do," the grizzled man answered and handed Crowley a mug of coffee before taking a seat at the table across from him.

"He used to be a knight; they all put their faith in a sword. He'll straighten out at some point," Crowley reasoned and took a sip of his coffee. Halt rolled his eyes.

"I doubt you rode three days to come ask about the boy," Halt stated and Crowley's grin faltered somewhat.

"No," he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I came to talk to you about the problem with the Widowers," he added. Halt frowned.

"Aren't they several fiefs down?"

"Not any more, they've been moving up. Quite evasively as well. From the reports I've been receiving there doesn't seem to be a shortage of men. Samuel captured at least seven and shot down about five more from the group of twenty that attacked his fief, but I received a letter the other day from Arthur claiming that at least twenty-five were slinking around the edges of his territory. By the time he'd gotten the guard to round them all up they were gone and the last I heard they were in the Western Woods getting reorganized."

"Redmont's further from the woods than Carter," Halt stated flatly. His brow was furrowed and his fingers were beating out a soft tattoo on the table. "Jasper's down there and if they're getting reorganized it means they're not ready. Why can't he lead in a small troop?"

"They can't find them," Crowley answered with a bit of frustration. Halt had known the commandant long enough to know it wasn't at him though.

"Arthur said there were at least twenty-five men going around his fief; you can't lose that many men in the Western Woods, not to mention they've got to have replacements."

Crowley motioned helplessly. "That's exactly what happened though. Arthur alerted Baron Randy and was promised a group of men. He told him to have them meet him at the edge of the border so he could track down the group so they didn't lose them. However, he got to the border and the promised troop never showed up because of a sudden change of heart by Randy. So instead Arthur sent a messenger to Jasper saying he predicted the Widowers would be going to the West Woods. Jasper sent me a report confirming Arthur's suspicions and saying that he found the tracks right up to the forest, but after that they've just disappeared. No tracks, nothing."

"What about the locals? They have to know something. There are at least three farms bordering those woods, someone must have seen something," Halt mumbled. Crowley could tell he was thinking over everything.

"They've claimed livestock goes missing every week or so, but they've never actually seen it being taken. A few people say they've heard things coming from the forest; however, nobody's brave enough to go in and look around. Jasper's followed up on a few leads, but can't find them anywhere. He's looked in caves and under every leaf, there's no sign of them."

Halt's frown was deeper now and silence fell for a few moments. "You want me to go look around and try to find where they're hiding," he muttered after a while. Crowley nodded slightly.

"You and I have dealt with the Outsiders before and these Widowers have similar tendencies with their cleverness. You also know how hard it is to get a lucky shot like this. They're reorganizing and most likely trying to regain numbers. Nobody has a limitless amount of men and right now they'll be at their most vulnerable. I need you to go in and try and find where they're hiding. There's already a small troop waiting for you in Carter ready to go."

Halt grumbled and finished his coffee before standing. "We'll leave in the morning, I want one last night on a soft bed before I'm forced to sleep on rocks," he muttered and walked away into his bedroom.

**Please review**


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